


Grass is Greener

by ceceliatarleton, shaky_mayhemm



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Cheating, Multi, Murder Mystery, Other, Soap Opera
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 11,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceceliatarleton/pseuds/ceceliatarleton, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaky_mayhemm/pseuds/shaky_mayhemm
Summary: Soap Opera AU replete with cheating spouses, sexy landscapers, murder, and much more told through loosely connected, sometimes non-chronological scenes and art. Writing by Cecelia Tarleton and Art by Shaky Mayhemm unless otherwise noted.
Relationships: Aqua & Xemnas (Kingdom Hearts), Aqua/Terra (Kingdom Hearts), Axel & Kairi (Kingdom Hearts), Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Hayner/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts), Isa/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Kairi/Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Kairi/Xion (Kingdom Hearts), Naminé/Xion (Kingdom Hearts), Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts), Ventus/Xion (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	1. We Can't Keep Doing This (Axel/Roxas)

**Author's Note:**

> For more information and works in the universe by people other than the creators, check out the "grass is greener verse" tags on our tumblrs. Reviews greatly appreciated and let us know here or on tumblr if there is something specific you would like to see or a character not featured yet you want to have background on.

There was a noise from downstairs. This time Axel was sure of it. The past five times he had asked, “Do you hear that?” not only had the answer been no, but it had turned out he had been imagining things. He was certain that he’d heard the creak and slam of the front door this time though. 

“Shh,” Axel’s stuttering plea for Roxas to let him listen–funny since the only noise in the room had been emanating from his own mouth–accompanied by the tightening of the hand in Roxas’s hair, pulling so perhaps he’d listen to the physical cue even if he ignored the verbal, turned into a curse, as there was an unmistakable clank of keys being thrown in the bowl on the table by the door downstairs (A Color Me Mine monstrosity with a large blue wolf curled around a yellow fox under a moonlit sky, hearts, and initials. Pottery prominently displayed to declare the couple who owned the house were in love loudly enough that it overrode stilted silences and frosty, biting remarks that weren’t even held back for company). “Shit, ahh, some…someone’s coming,” Axel protested, quite dumbly as there was clearly only one person who it could be. 

Roxas stood to lose more than he did in this situation, even if a quarter of his clients now had called him on Isa’s referral and would likely retract their business at his recommendation as well–except of course Xigbar, who Axel was sure was pleased enough at his full range of services and with whom he had nearly as close of a homeowner/gardener relationship with as Roxas–but Isa’s husband seemed quite unperturbed for his part, humming something that was very likely the word, “you.”

“I know you get off on almost getting caught,” Axel laughed a bit breathlessly, eyes focusing on the ceiling and counting speckles of the popcorn, trying to focus on the image of Isa’s face, moments from now, contorted in rage, flesh melting off bone like he was a Nazi in Raider’s of the Lost Ark, “but I certainly don’t.” He tried not to make it a lie, but imagining an angry Isa wasn’t quite having the effect he wanted it to.

Roxas, blasé as ever, acted as if he neither heard Axel nor the footsteps on the stairs and Axel bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood and found it a wonder he didn’t bite straight through. Axel’s back arched off the wall and his ears rang like clock tower bells. 

Then, quite suddenly, Axel found himself sitting on Roxas and Isa’s bed and not standing in front of the window, close to being hidden in the curtains yet again, phantom finger impressions on his arm and pain in his chest like he’d just been grabbed then yanked and shoved into place violently, gulping breath and blinking up at Roxas in confusion, wondering when his pants had been zipped back up.

That’s when Isa threw open the door and walked in.

“What’s this?” Isa’s face was a mask, a shade too haughty and knowing to be considered neutral, single, so perfectly shaped that Axel wondered if it had been sculpted brow raising and a smirk on his lips. Real Isa and his consistent superiority complex was even more attractive than the angry imagination Isa and Axel cursed himself to hell–which, he considered he might already be in. Hell had done a pretty good recreation of a suburban bedroom.

Axel summoned all his skills as a known charmer and habitual liar, and came up with nothing but an, “Err…” caught in a fog still.

Roxas pressed the back of his hand to Axel’s forehead and met Isa’s eyes steadily as he sighed an explanation and arranged his face into a concerned pout, “He got overheated working on the hedges. Almost passed out in the yard. It’s lucky I was outside and was able to walk him in to take a rest. You can see how flushed his face is.” When through with his blatant, certainly transparent lies, Roxas had the utter audacity to mirror Isa’s smirk.

“I suppose that makes sense,” Isa dragged out the words. The knowing look turned into exaggerated confusion, “But why bring him upstairs instead of letting the poor man rest on the couch?” 

“I thought he should lie down. Not just sit,” Roxas answered without missing a beat.

“The stairs?”

“He’s overheated, not invalid. He walked himself.”

“Did you think to get him a cool drink?”

“Was just about to.”

They volleyed back and forth at such rapid speed that Axel didn’t have a chance to interject even if he would have thought it was safe to. Expressions on both faces became more intense and Axel had the prickling feeling he was a minute away from being a true voyeur to more than just a conversation in a true sharp left turn of the afternoon’s events. 

Axel was beginning to piece together he was the ball in a bigger tennis match, which was usually a position he was fine with, but a flicker of something akin to disappointment plucked in his chest. He just didn’t like to be used in ways he didn’t agree to, that was all. If Roxas wasn’t unhappy and looking for escape, but rather just looking for a way to make his husband show jealousy and interest, then that…It was fine. Roxas should have given him the whole picture, that was all. And they should have tried to get caught the first time, not carried on a…whatever this was…for so long.

Isa turned his attention just as Axel was about to get up and go, and laid a hand on Axel’s arm that the redheaded gardener didn’t dare flinch away from. The taller man softened his features “Can I get you a cool drink since my husband has neglected to?”

“Yeah?” Axel exhaled through his teeth, cursing himself yet again for allowing himself to be so effected by actions instead of effecting them.

Isa smiled warmly–naturally, he had a great smile too–and patted Axel’s arm twice in what felt like a sympathetic gesture. “I’ll be right back.”

Roxas rolled his eyes, pushed open the bedroom door wider, and gestured for Isa to leave as if he were an intruder and not a master of the house. He shut the door behind Isa when he left, brazen as ever.

Axel didn’t wait to hear or see what Roxas would do next. He flopped backward on the bed with a groan. “We can’t keep doing this. This time I’m serious.”


	2. My Husband is Going to be Home Any Minute (Kairi/Sora and Kairi/Xion)

“I’m a firm believer in ethical non-monogamy,” Sora supplied the answer to a question that had not been asked from his place on Kairi’s living room floor doing glute bridges, which Xion seemed to be finding a little too interesting for Kairi’s taste. She shoved a surge of possessiveness deep down. 

Possessiveness was one of the chief roadblocks on the road towards inner peace in Sora’s teachings. To believe in ownership was to fear loss and theft, whereas welcoming the idea that the stardust in the world traveled to where it was needed most and did the most good at any given time was to open yourself to all the good that could flow to you and fill the voids in your life better than your so called possessions. Kairi couldn’t deny that embracing what Sora had to offer was working so far. She had been much happier since Sora had become her guru.

“Ethical non-monogamy?” Xion’s pursed lips either spoke to the wine Kairi had poured for her having turned or to her repressing laughter. 

“Open honesty in all relationships about your needs and how you are going about meeting them to start with,” Sora explained cheerfully. The bright orange crop top he was wearing didn’t have much room to travel but managed to ride up anyway as he continued his thrusts while speaking. “Kairi can probably explain it. I have been enlightening her about my and Riku’s way of life.”

“I bet,” Xion hummed, trying to catch Kairi’s eye. “Kai, babe, I can’t believe you’ve been hiding Sora away this whole time. He’s delightful.”

Kairi refused to be caught, keeping her focus on her phone as she typed out a reply to Roxas on the group chat, lovingly referred to as Trophy Spouse Hangout on a Dusty Shelf by its participants, telling him that she was down for drinks at Terra’s, the bar or his and Aqua’s house, but she was going to be late. She had already accidentally double-booked herself today and it was causing all sorts of problems.

Sora flipped to his feet and then immediately pulled up one leg behind his head in a position reminiscent of a position Kairi remembered being called scorpion hold in her cheerleading days. “I think you’re pretty great too, Xion.” He positively beamed at her, the same smile full of light and sincerity that had first made Kairi go weak at the knees before he’d even revealed himself as double jointed. “You should come to one of my classes. I teach beginner’s and intermediate yoga too. Where did you say you knew Kairi from again?”

Xion hesitated just long enough for Kairi to jump in. “My husband’s going to be home any minute.” She waved her phone like it was related. If they thought Vanitas had just texted her he was a few blocks away, then that was on them.

Xion’s intake of breath was audible and she murmured something about needing to meet Demyx about the portable standing hair dryers that he said he could get for the salon she was refinishing her garage into as she darted around looking for her purse and her shoes. Apparently Demyx knew a guy. Kairi knew from Terra (Saint Terra, world’s best sympathetic bartender, witness to much and participant of nothing, collecting stories and keeping a feeling of independence from Aqua and her family money) that Demyx knew quite a lot of guys, but she kept her mouth shut–it wasn’t her business to air out Demyx’s, and it could sound like a warning, which would, again, sound jealous. She had no doubt that Demyx had shady business contacts too.

Sora, as Kairi should have expected, smiled even more widely–something she didn’t know was possible. “Since Vanitas is going to be home early, let me call Riku and the four of us can go out to dinner together. You’ve been dodging it for weeks! You should come too, Xion.”

Kairi really hoped she didn’t wince visibly. “Great idea!” Her voice was higher than normal. “He might be too tired to go out though. Why don’t you go home and change, I’ll ask Vanitas, and I’ll text you if we can meet you and Riku.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Sora pointed out, but allowed Kairi to push him toward the door. “I really want you to meet Riku. I think the two of you would really get along–even better than you and I do probably.”

Kairi didn’t want to meet Riku, no matter how many times Sora assured her that his aura was a complimentary color to hers and the three of them could make a rainbow that heralded in great rain for plains where there had once been a drought. Sora’s strong suit wasn’t science or metaphor, and Kairi didn’t want to burst his bubble by pointing out that rainbows came after the rain–and she definitely wasn’t in a drought and she was fairly certain Sora and Riku were both living in flood land. It would be weird. Just like Sora meeting Xion had been weird. 

Involving Vanitas wouldn’t be weird though. It would be a bloodbath. Sora, special butterfly that he was, hadn’t listened when Kairi had tried to tell him. (“The truth will set you free. Kairi. I really believe it will unburden your chi if you and Vanitas have a long talk. I’m sure he will find your relationship with me beautiful because it brings you joy. Who doesn’t want their beloved to radiate joy?”) Vanitas’s mind was not likely to be expanded enough to receive the idea that some people can only be their truest selves when exploring the idea that, just like with other kinds of loves, the heart and body isn’t meant to be confined to only one romantic love. She tried not to think of the other component to Sora’s urging (“If you want to continue being anything but my student, I’m going to need to know Vanitas blesses our relationship. Consent from all parties is important to me.”) Urging Vanitas to take Sora’s yoga classes back when she’d only been a yoga student herself before accepting Sora as her life coach and then more was very quickly becoming a huge regret in her life, and she could only hope Van continued to blow off the idea.

“I’m so glad you arranged for me to meet Xion today, It means a lot. You two make a truly breathtaking couple,” Sora unintentionally twisted another knife of guilt as he left.

“She’s just…” Kairi stopped short of calling Xion a pal and changed gears to just say. “I’ll see you on Friday, Sora.”

She closed the door behind him, only to find Xion watching her.

“Don’t say it.”

“Don’t say what? He’s nice. Having Mr. Hot Yoga knock on the door claiming to be the pizza delivery boy while we’re unwinding with a glass of wine and then watching him nervously work out while making small talk when he saw you had company? That’s exactly what I expected when you asked me to come over.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He didn’t even really have a sausage pizza with him,” Xion sighed in mock dismay.

“Vanitas isn’t really on his way home.”

Xion dropped her purse on the floor and wrapped her arms around Kairi’s neck. “Say no more.”


	3. Sibling Shenanigans Part 1 (Axel and Kairi)

“I might be getting a divorce!” The signs of truth were there. Kairi had a cat carrier in each hand, Astrophe, the princess too good for a carrier, laid across her chest with claws dug into her shoulder, and the long strap of a duffel bag crossing her chest at a slant with the bag itself balanced against a cocked hip. Kairi’s shadow and liner were smudged and eyes too bright. Her smile was forced. Her hair was coiled in a complicated knot, but with several strands fallen out and curling slightly with damp and stuck to her face and neck, and she was wearing a short black sequined dress with tennis shoes and no socks. She was a definite picture. 

However, her lines were delivered with the air of someone announcing that they had won an all expenses paid trip to Port Royal, and not that the life they had built was crumbling around them, so Axel thought he could be excused when it was with an exasperated sigh and a, “What happened this time?” that he welcomed his little sister through his front door and not a sympathetic and concerned, “Tell me what happened.”

“You know how Vanitas was supposed to be gone this weekend?” The carriers were already on the floor and Kairi and Vanitas’s manx, Ali, had, by all evidence Axel could see, turned to smoke and reformed outside the wire barred door as soon as it was set on the ground before Kairi had even bent to unlatch it, Astrophe running after his sister. “Is Stuffing shut in the bedroom?” All of Kairi’s cats knew Turkey was monarch of the realm, and they were proud aunts and uncles to the litter (Pumpkin, Gravy, Cranberry, Potato, and Biscuit, all of whom were supposed to have gone on to new homes by now, but Kairi suspected were to become permanent fixtures since Axel had not been able to “find the time” to secure appropriate homes so far since “They can’t just go to anyone, Kairi, and I’m not sending them to your broken home either!”) but Kairi’s old wirehair cat, Tillac, who Axel assumed was in the other carrier, and Stuffing had a rivalry that stretched back years. 

Axel didn’t even bother to nod, opting instead to ask, “Is Xion okay?” as he closed the door and then addressed his sister’s other question while bending to pick up the shoes she’d already kicked off so he could place them on the shoe rack by the door which she never remembered to do. “No, I don’t keep Stuffing shut up unless I’m expecting Tilly, which I wasn’t.” The last was said with a pointed look. “I see you had your hands full, but would it have killed you to call?”

Kairi gaped at him. “Axel, I just took the kids and left my husband, and you manage to take his side by implying the only reason we could have argued is if I had planned something untoward in his absence, insult one of my dearest friends, imply you care more about Xion than your own sister, and whine about how my showing up is going to impact the plans I know you don’t have all in the space of seconds? Axel, your baby sister is distraught!” 

“Yeah, but is Xion okay?” Axel repeated without pause. “She’s sensitive.” He dropped the shoes in their proper place and let out a belated snort. “Untoward? Are you using a word of the day calendar so you can impress the hubby’s friends?”

Kairi released Tillac to go harass Stuffing until Turkey put her in her place, stood up, and tugged the hem of her dress down and readjusted the bodice to try and wrangle everything into a more presentable place. “Not all of us spend our days communicating only in grunts, brother dear.”

“Hey!” Axel gasped in mock offense. “I’m trying my best to teach Demyx human speech, but sometimes I have to meet him halfway.” He opened up his arms and gestured with his hands for Kairi to come hug him, an olive branch she immediately accepted, tripping over the cat carriers to throw herself in his arms. “Now tell me what happened and we can get drunk, or I’ll go threaten the bastard with a weed whacker or something.” He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back. There wasn’t enough information yet to establish whether this was a _you’ll work it out_ moment or a _you really shouldn’t go back this time_ with a side of _you could do so much better,_ so he left no follow up.

“It’s really not that bad,” were Kairi’s first words and Axel could have provided commentary, but led her over the couch instead. Presumably, that meant Xion was fine. “It’s my fault. I picked a fight.”

He waited a second for more details, and, when none came, he urged her along. “Atta girl. Knock some teeth out? He has too many.”

“Axel, please.”

“Didja, blacken one of those creepy gold eyes?” Axel forced an exaggerated shudder to go with his words. He didn’t have to do much to make it happen. He’d found Vanitas unnerving ever since Kairi introduced them (or, rather, failed to, since “Guess who got married in Vegas?” did not an introduction make).

“His eyes are hazel and they are gorgeous.” Kairi sighed, picking up a wandering kitten from the arm of the couch and sitting them on her lap to cuddle (Pumpkin or Cranberry, but with Kairi’s hand covering the the top of their head while she scritched their scalp, there was no way to check the marking).

“Sure, if you’re a hawk. I bet all the lady hawks go crazy.”

“That’s my husband,” Kairi warned.

“Yeah, but for how much longer?” Axel scoffed, brushing his sister’s fight with husband off again, something he still wasn’t sure he wouldn’t regret later, though Kairi’s glare was weak enough he was confident that he would be called to post bail because Kairi and Vanitas were picked up for indecent acts in the back seat of a convertible in the middle of a car show by next week. It wasn’t like this was the first time Kairi had shown up on his door, claiming things might be over. There was a bit of a girl who cried wolf situation at this stage. He picked up his half finished beer from the coffee table and took a swig. “And I’m just saying you have bad taste. Xion excluded. Do you want to put your duffel and the carriers in the guest room?”

“I don’t have bad taste. You have bad taste,” Kairi fired back and Axel couldn’t help but picture her at eight years old with a missing tooth and a haircut she’d given herself because he had dared her. “Your last boyfriend was literally a serial killer.”

“You have to kill three people before its serial and he was only convicted of manslaughter. Honestly, it’s like you never had a bad relationship before.” Axel’s easygoing reply of the standard line didn’t match the sudden flicker out and fade of amusement from his eyes.

“You do better with bored housewives.” Kairi patted his arm, and it was almost like an apology. “I’ll get the luggage in a minute.”

“I do fantastic with bored housewives,” Axel corrected, “but I’m usually only interested in their husbands.”

“Oh! Speaking of,” Kairi tucked her legs beneath her and sat up straighter, predatory look entering her eyes, “You started work for Xion’s brother-in-law today, right?”

Kairi smiled suddenly with too many teeth–maybe she was well suited to her husband after all–and Axel found it took all his focus to swallow his beer without choking. It occurred to him that the thermostat might have been broken, because the room was getting humid but the air hadn’t kicked on. “Weren’t you distraught?” He furrowed his brow like a good concerned big brother. “Didn’t you have a fight with your husband? You may be getting divorced. I know we don’t talk about things that bother us like a normal family, thanks Dad, but that’s upsetting news! _I’m_ distraught! My ears are wide open.” He took one of Kairi’s hands in both of his and there was a meow of protest from Pumpkin. “I’m _listening_.”

Kairi pulled away and resumed important kitten petting duties. Unlike before, where her petulance was for Axel taking things too lightly, her frustration now seemed to be at internal sources. “Sora invited me away for the weekend. Most of that duffel was already packed.”

“What about Xion?” Axel whined his bias. “She was in…” Axel made an okay symbol with his thumb and index finger and whistled between his teeth for effect, “fine form when I saw her earlier. She was wearing this petal pink bodycon number so short I saw that starfish you’re always talking about, and I think she cut her hair again, or at least did some different product. She was wearing that perfume you got her too. I thought you guys had something planned tonight.”

“Maybe she was going out with Ventus.” Kairi was dismissive enough in tone, but her lips pursed when they were done with the words and Pumpkin made a complaining noise like he’d been squeezed. 

“Who?” Axel oozed false innocence and confusion.

“Her husband…fiancé…boyfriend…whatever,” Kairi waved vaguely, more obviously disgruntled by the moment.

“Not whatever. Just because you skipped a few steps with ol’ Vani the Vain, doesn’t mean there is a distinct difference between those three things, typically one that matters to most people.”

“Just those in the relationship,” Kairi countered.

“And those with…what’s the word?” Axel pretended to think as Pumpkin abandoned Kairi in favor of him, and two more cats came bolting into the room as if summoned, sensing Dad was handing out love. “Morals? Boundaries? Restraint?”

“Van and I do have restraints…” Kairi hummed, trailing off once the joke was made and clicking her tongue to lure Potatoes to her.

Axel howled protest and screwed up his face, playing along, glad Kairi was distracted again before she could get sad. “ Too much information even for us!” When Kairi giggled–with grateful eyes that said she wasn’t really that amused, but was trying because she saw he was working hard to keep things light from the moment she’d walked in the door–Axel declared that part of his job done and reoriented back to allowing Kairi to tell her story. “So Vanitas was supposed to be gone so you made plans with Sora, and you were just going to _leave_ the cats? “

“Xion was going to check in on the cats,” Kairi clarified the important part.

“You were going to have Xion catsit while you went traipsing off with the flavor of the month?” Axel stretched his mouth and widened his eyes, daring his face to stick in the clowning expression. “You’ll never get her to leave Airvent and marry you instead that way!”

“I’m already married…for now,” Kairi tokenly defended her marriage.

“Doesn’t count. He didn’t get my blessing…and he never will.” Axel was quick on both parts of the rejoinder.

Kairi ignored him as he expected her to and started to confess in a rush, “So Vanitas announces that he’s not going to the conference anymore; something about him finding out some of the last second substitutions in presenters and articles being presented when his was declined in the peer review stage…He was still published, but it’s a whole _political thing_ with being featured in the conference. Anyway, he had to boycott on principle, so he’s home, and he told me to get ready because we were going out to dinner and we were going to order multiple bottles of wine and get kicked out of our favorite restaurant because he’s already a disgrace…his words. He gave me the opening, and I took it, because I’m panicked Sora is going to show up at the door.”

Axel raised his hand like an obedient child in a classroom to be called on, but just went ahead and interrupted even when he was ignored. “Isn’t Sora the yoga guy? Couldn’t he defeat Vani Vain with the power of friendship and love?” He hadn’t met Sora. Kairi was quite adamant that he wasn’t allowed to after he’d been a little more than politely amused at her stories. It was a fair ask since Kairi had, rightly, assumed that the only reasons Axel wanted to meet Sora were to see if he could make him cry for the fun of it, warn him off his sister, or, if he proved to be as attractive as Kairi said, sleep with him himself.

Kairi continued as if the interruption hadn’t happened. “I don’t take it right away. I get dressed, start to do my hair, and then I start throwing things from the vanity and yelling about how he can’t just order me to doll up like that’s all I am, his doll, waiting pretty on a shelf, ready to play with when he remembers I’m there. I point out he never asked me to come to the convention with him, and after we had such fun at last years’.” Axel snorted, knowing that story, and the pattern of being blocked out continued, “And I know how many spouses come along now. I think I accused him of having an affair. I really don’t know. I half blacked out. A spirit took over, and when I came to, I was packing a bag and insulting his paper because he still wasn’t getting angry enough fast enough to justify me leaving.”

“It sounds like you handled the situation brilliantly,” Axel complimented. “So did you call Sora and tell him to pick you up here, or is the weekend off? Am I on catsitting and husband deflection duty?” He wasn’t seeing a problem yet, not even something that warranted Kairi’s overdramatic divorce line, though a troubling thought did occur to him. “If he smacked you, shoved you, laid a hand on you in any way when you started yelling at him, I will do more than threaten him with the chainsaw. He’s dead. Demyx will help me hide the body. He knows a guy, and he owes me. They both owe me. Plus, I learned some tricks from my ex.” He softened his concern and threats he was prepared to follow through with in jokes. 

“Stop thinking the worst of him at every opportunity,” Kairi snapped, and Potatoes rubbed his head against her stomach to calm her. “He just…took some low blows of his own and things escalated more quickly than I wanted them to.” She shifted uncomfortably.

“Like what?” Axel responded carefully, not wanting to supply guesses when it was a losing game, even if he came from the angle of listing reasons anything Vanitas could have said was untrue.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kairi insisted, which was a prime sign that it did. “I just might be here a few days for real after Sora and I get back. He’s coming to pick me up in an hour.”

Axel was silent a moment, assessing whether he should push Kairi to talk or hope the weekend healed the wounds, then nodded and gently lifted all cats away from his body. “An hour doesn’t give us much time. Go sit at the dining room table. Go!” He shooed her.

Kairi complied without asking for explanation and Axel went into the kitchen, grabbing two wine glasses down from the cabinet and an open half a red from the fridge. On impulse, he grabbed a few empty beer bottles from his recycling pile as well and stuck them under his arms. He continued their conversation as he rejoined his sister. “Do I get to meet Sora or is he supposed to stay outside and honk? Put your head down on the table and look listless.” He poured the barest hint of wine in the bottom of the glass he put in front of Kairi, and did the same for the one he put in his spot at the table. He arranged the empty beer bottles with the eye of an artist. “Let me go get my phone. Look sadder, but not so sad it’s unbelievable.” 

“If you want to meet Sora, take one of his classes.”

Axel snapped a series of pictures to choose from, talking to himself, “She’s doing fine, Vanitas. We spent the evening talking. Of course. I’ll send you a picture.” Raising his voice a few decibels, he gestured back to the living room. “Go lie down on the couch, cover yourself with the fleece from the armchair, put a cat or two on your chest, and close your eyes. We’ll shoot, ‘don’t come over now, Van, she’s sleeping,’ next and then you can change into sweats and grab some board games from the closet. I’m assuming you’ll be too mad to answer phone calls from him anyway, but do you want to take your hair down and get it wet in the sink for some, ‘No, she just got out of the shower, why are you so creepy needing evidence?’ safety shots?”

“You’re seriously the best brother ever,” Kairi leaned up on tiptoes and pecked Axel’s cheek on her way into the living room.

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Roxas was watching you today from the upstairs window,” Kairi tossed out nonchalantly. “Xion texted me about it. He wants to smell your hair and cook you dinner.”

“He what?” Axel stuttered and nearly fumbled his phone. So much for a steady hand and unflappable cool. The Howe he hadn’t met yet, having spoken with Isa Howe during his initial looks around and estimates for the yard, had come outside after Xion had left, and all but admitted to watching him at least as long as to comment on Xion detouring to chat with him a minute before she went to her car, and, sure, Axel had purposefully peeled off his shirt and rolled down his overalls to his waist after Roxas had went inside, hoping he was still watching, but he hadn’t seen any proof, and their brief conversation had spent a moment on shock of shared acquaintances (“You know Xion? I knew you were Kairi’s brother–she recommended you–so it makes sense since they’re close, but that’s wild. Small world.”) and then stayed in the professional (apparently Roxas had been the one who had done the sketches Isa had shown Axel of what the garden in the backyard was supposed to look like when he was done). Maybe Axel had noticed that Roxas had eyes the exact color blue as the delphinium hybrid he had presented at his last flower show (had to keep up the street cred that he was more than just a lawn service guy and a tree and hedge trimmer somehow–even if that sort of thing was his bread and butter), and that he was pretty cut since he hadn’t bothered with a shirt when he ran outside. And perhaps, when the sun caught his hair he looked like an angel out of a renaissance painting. None of that meant anything though.

“He wants to cook you dinner,”Kairi repeated, cavalier. “Be gentle with him. I think it would be his first time out of the box in awhile.”

“I’m not…” Axel pinched the bridge of his nose, counting to keep from getting angry and only managing to count the problems he had with what Kairi was suggesting. “Is this why you recommended me to your friend? Are you my pimp now?”

“He needs a fling.” Kairi had the nerve to shrug. “You are an accomplished flinger. The only person you’re seeing right now is Demyx, and he’s just a friend sleeping in one of your spare rooms….He is still just a friend sleeping in one of your spare rooms, right?”

“Most nights.” Axel left it ambiguous whether Demyx spent the odd night elsewhere or whether the friend lines sometimes blurred. “And my best tree trimmer.”

“That’s what I heard from Ienzo.” Kairi proved the Emberson comedic timing lived well in her. “So what’s the problem with Xion and I wanting to give Roxas a hot gardener fantasy to brighten up his life? He’s a friend.”

“So many things are wrong with that, Thalassa Shell.” In times so serious, Axel had no choice but to bring out family pet names. 

A beat passed. Kairi didn’t apologize for the idea like she was supposed to. Axel didn’t harp on it more. Another question fought its way out of his throat. “Incidentally though, did he say anything else about me?”


	4. Reward For Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For once, the art is by Cecelia/Snowflake

> **Most recent photo of missing co-ed Strelizia Wynn. Picture taken to commemorate first day at part-time job, local landscaping firm Lawn and Order**

Police are seeking help to locate a “runaway/missing” girl.

Radiant Garden Police Department said in a recent press release that Strelizia Wynn was last seen about 7:00 p.m. on April 10th five blocks from the house where she lives with her brother, Lauriam Wynn, local attorney, in the 1100 block of the Avenue to Dreams. 

Her brother received a text from her phone the next day that she’d eloped with a Jordan from her philosophy class, a fact that, when taken together with the plane tickets bought on her credit card, caused police to dismiss her case when her brother reported her missing. Mr. Wynn insisted an elopement was not her character, a sentiment that has since been echoed by many of the girl’s friends and classmates at Twilight Town University, as well as, Naminé Arrowny, a family friend who graffiti-ed a portrait of the missing on the side of a building about to be demolished in July to bring her face to the public and protest how the RGPD had allowed her case to grow cold.

Strelizia was in the middle of a semester when she disappeared, and none of the staff at the school received communication she was dropping out. Neither did she put in notice with her employer, Axel Emberson. There were records of her flight check-in and departure from Hollow Bastion International, but not of her landing. Furthermore, a cursory check would confirm there was no Jordan enrolled in Professor Ventus Cole’s Abnormal Psychology 307. Mr. Cole could not be reached for comment at this time. 

It was not until Lauriam Wynn pursued legal action against the RGPD as a whole and several individual employees for their negligence that a full investigation moved forward. 

Strelizia is described as 5-foot-4 and 140 pounds with shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair and green eyes. She has a tattoo of a stylized star by her right clavicle. She was wearing a white sundress when she was last seen.

If you have any information on this case, please contact the RGPD at the below tip line.

555-725-0960


	5. Save the Date (Hayner reflects on Ventus)

**Save the date** , the card pressed into Hayner’s hands demanded in curling script overlaying a photo of Ventus with a dark haired woman in his arms. Their foreheads are pressed together and eyes are scrunched closed–tightly so they get creases at the edges that imply smile lines, a calculated gesture–but they still somehow look at peace despite how clear it is that they are posed and his wide smile is strained, possible from effort of keeping his fiancée lifted at the best angle for the photo for however long the photograph needs to set up shots when Ventus isn’t used to lifting anything heavier than the brown leather man purse (“It’s called a satchel, Hayner. Half my colleagues carry them.”) he insists on carrying around even when he visits Hayner on the field, possibly from other reasons. They look happy. Hayner feels a tightness in his throat, so he turns the card over. 

**SAVE THE DATE** the card commands once more when turned, imperative not leaving Hayner a choice, and gives more information. 

Months away. He has time. 

Time for what he doesn’t know.

“She’s pretty,” Hayner says, hoping casual compliments make up for a bitter tone that would have made him cringe if he had less discipline. He sounds like a jealous teenager. 

He should have said congratulations. You were supposed to say congratulations in these situations. Why did he remember something so basic so late? He can’t say congratulations now it’s not the first thing out of his mouth, or it’s clear he’s forcing the nicety.

“Xion’s gorgeous,” Ventus says her name like a love confession, enamored and oblivious to all else as he smiles at the photo on his desk–a new fixture in the office but an older picture– that shows the same woman, much younger, clad in a blue and white striped bikini and holding a large blue sunhat on her head with one arm, sat on his lap. Ventus’s smile is more carefree here, though the younger Ventus in the photo isn’t looking at Xion but staring into the eyes of the boy that sits beside him, bronzed, muscled, and blue eyed with longish brown hair falling into his eyes. His mouth is slightly open so he may have said something just before the picture was snapped. A conversation would explain why Ventus’s attention is distracted and the other man is paying no mind to the blue haired girl in the red and white beach sarong that matches the board shorts he’s wearing with arms around his neck and cheek pressed to his.

The desk decoration would seem to indicate Ventus and Xion have been together for years, their relationship an immoveable constant even if they did take their time deciding to make commitment official, but Hayner knows better. 

He was left at the altar. The first piece of gossip Hayner had ever learned about Ventus at a faculty party a few years ago that had bored him until the blonde had walked into the room. Ventus was called poor thing and brave for coming out, so it had been recent then. Hayner had introduced himself, made small talk, but any flirtation was an accident of natural charm. Hayner respected the relationship mourning period. They exchanged numbers, but it was to talk about Doctor Who and Legends of Tomorrow. He wouldn’t take advantage. There wouldn’t be whispers at the next party about how he’d swooped in while Ventus was vulnerable. Besides, when he’d put out a few casual feelers with other party guests asking whether Ventus’s mysterious would-be spouse with poor decision making skills had been a man or a woman the answer had been disappointing, though he didn’t presume that was the final word on Ventus’s tastes. A guy could hope at least.

Hope wasn’t unfounded as it turned out, but not everyone cared as much about gossip and appearances as Hayner did apparently. Hayner waited three days to text Ven asking his opinion on his favorite Who companion. Ventus apologized when it took him a few hours to respond. He was out on a date. Vanitas said hi.

Vanitas was a mistake. For anyone at any time. Hayner should know. He struggled over how to tell Ventus without sounding too jealous or too knowledgeable, but Ventus learned quickly enough on his own. The lesson just didn’t seem to stick with him. Ventus and Vanitas were on and off again for long stretches of time, hardly ever casual whether they were together or apart, during which Hayner played the role of sympathetic friend and confidante as he and Ventus grew closer. He’d given boyfriend advice and questioned life decisions that had led to him being a romantic comedy trope, but he hadn’t just been biding his time until he won in the end. Not _just_ that. He enjoyed Ventus’s company, and he wouldn’t ask more than pizza nights, ballgames, and talks about how they didn’t understand memes today or even back in their own day, and so were probably never cool. 

Then Vanitas left for a long weekend and came back with a wife. It should have ended the games. Instead, Hayner hadn’t even had time to process the news brought to him by Ventus shoving his phone in his face as he elbowed his way through his front door into his living room, or scroll through the blurry, poorly composed pictures Vanitas had sent of him and a pretty, vaguely familiar redhead, standing in front of the Bellagio, posing with a white tiger, in what was only vaguely recognizable as a wedding chapel with what appeared to be a young Tina Turner wearing a balloon crown that matched the ones they were donning for that particular picture, and, in the final photo, flashing matching rings, before Ventus had tacked on, “So, then, I slept with my ex, which made me feel even worse. We’re not getting back together…I don’t think. It was more…I don’t know what it was. I want to say solace, but I think it’s revenge. I still want revenge.”

Hayner forced out a few comforting words, soothed Ven that it couldn’t be revenge. He was too good a person to use others like that, even if he had the thoughts. He’d been confused and hurt. It was understandable. Ventus should have come to him, not to his ex. 

Ventus had started to explain how he’d ended up with his ex, something about visiting his brother and finding the ex at Roxas’s house, which should have raised even more red flags, but Ventus switched the subject halfway through and asked, “If I had come to you, do you think the night would have gone much differently?” too coy and composed to completely jive with the distressed image of a few minutes prior.

Over breakfast the next morning, they’d had a much more productive talk about Ventus’s issues with both Vanitas and Xion, and what patterns needed to be broken before Ventus attempted any serious connection with someone new. Hayner had made it clear he didn’t mind giving Ventus time and space to sort himself out. A little more waiting wouldn’t hurt. A year of being single was what Ventus suggested for himself. 

Apparently, Ventus had decided he wanted to make the same mistake twice with the girl who had left him at the altar, and this had to be where Hayner drew a line.

“You’ll come, right?” The faith in Ventus’s eyes made him physically ill.

“ ‘Course.” He never had a chance.

There were plays worth of monologues Hayner wanted to make, but words cut his tongue and the roof of his mouth like shards of glass when he tried to force them out.

A polite, perfunctory knock on the frame of the open door to announce that Ventus had another visitor, probably one more appropriate for his office hours, saved Hayner from his struggle. High hemline, pigtails, a parody of a cliche that asked, “Professor, is this a bad time? I need to talk to you about my last essay." Hayner excused himself before the student could say she couldn’t afford the bad grade Ventus had given her and she’d do anything to raise it. At least that’s what Hayner uncharitably assumed the dialogue would be. 

Later, Hayner would be shown a picture of Strelizia Wynn and swear he didn’t know her personally but he recognized her face and he’d seen her with Ventus on that day.

Both Ventus and Hayner ended up hurt by the fact Hayner hadn’t walked away sooner.


	6. Taking Sides (Axel/Roxas)

“Are you really taking his side right now?” Roxas glared up at Axel through his bangs and his grip on the landscaper’s freckled thighs tightened.

Axel was not chastened in the slightest. Roxas had asked for his opinion–maybe not in so many words, but the implication had been there. Roxas didn’t often just talk to hear himself speak, especially when it came to complaining about his husband. He usually wanted compassion or a proposed solution. The redhead lifted his head from the bed and met Roxas’s stormy stare with a heated look of his own, pulling a bit on the bonds that secured his wrists to the headboard as he tried to leverage himself. “You were the one that started talking about how you’re trying to talk Isa into marriage counseling, _right now_!” He mirrored Roxas’s indignant tone, punctuating the stressed words with a small thrust up of his hips that only caused short, blunt nails to be dug into his flesh harshly in response. Maybe he shouldn’t be so upset Roxas was forgetting he might have an emotional stake in the situation or at least an emotional reaction, and, more definitely, he probably should have tried to help Roxas think of a way to convince Isa to see things his way. After all, if Roxas and Isa started going to a real marriage counselor, Axel wouldn’t be called on to make it the third (fourth?) job he did for the couple after all. Like every part of whatever this situation was however, it wasn’t that easy.

He must have done a bad job merely sounding annoyed instead of truly upset. Roxas ducked his head, but he wasn’t quick enough to break eye contact. Axel saw the realization and regret, and it cut to his heart. How did it feel like he was the bad guy? 

“I’m sorry,” their voices overlapped each other, both men meaning the words but for reasons larger than this one conversation.

Roxas crawled off the bed and walked around to untie Axel’s hands without another word. Axel slipped his left hand out the knots that didn’t actually hold it securely while Roxas worked on his right side, but he didn’t try to speak either or reach out toward his lover. 

“Do you really want to work out your problems with Isa?” Axel asked the ceiling.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Roxas picked up his robe from where it had been discarded and put it on.

“I know something other than a marriage counselor that would also go a long way as a gesture.” Axel wondered if the air conditioning had clicked on. It was so cold in the bedroom all of a sudden.

“Why don’t we drive out of town and go out to eat somewhere where we won’t run into anyone we know? I’ll send Isa a text I’m hanging out with my brother.”

“I can’t.” Axel wondered if he would ever muster up the will to add more to the sentiment, and what it would take to make him stick to it if he did.


	7. Iceberg Ahead (Flashback to Isa and Roxas's Rehearsal Dinner)

“Remember, we have to get up early tomorrow, and we want to look good in pictures” Naminé was probably the only one that could have spoken at a volume that shouldn’t have even carried over the multiple boisterous conversations being held in the room and instantly halted them all, made the gentle urging not sound like nagging, and caused the entire twenty-top table to bend to her will and almost immediately stand, individuals and couples circulating their own excuses and goodbyes. 

Naminé herself hung back until nearly everyone had left, dishing out largely redundant reminders of different rough edges the rehearsal had shown needed to be worked out before the ceremony tomorrow. The amount of alcohol consumed by the wedding party at dinner after the rehearsal made it somewhat of a good idea however.

“Nam, you are an angel,” Roxas declared, throwing an arm around her shoulders, magnanimous and red-faced, though in his case it was more rising nervous excitement than drunkenness. 

“I’ll take that title,” Naminé declared, leaning her head briefly on his shoulder. “I have to have some role, since you wouldn’t let me be wedding planner when it mattered and I’m not in the party.”

“You have the very important role of girlfriend of the maid of honor,” Roxas countered.

“And if I help you keep your and Isa’s friends in line, then you won’t say no to that either, will you?" 

"You caught me.”

“Hey, stop snuggling and whispering over there. I’ll get jealous,” Xion called, making an “I’m watching you” gesture from where she was lingering talking to Isa at the other end of the room. 

Naminé made a show of stepping away and Roxas held up both hands, smiling widely. “Can you blame me on my last night of freedom? You have to keep on your toes and hold onto this one.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure Ventus had left the restaurant and not just the back room they’d reserved, before he tacked on. “Best thing that ever happened to you. If you mess this up, you’re going to doom the rest of us”

“I take exception with that,” Isa interjected.

Xion looked at him gratefully. “Thank you. I don’t want the pressure.”

“Fine,” Roxas rolled his eyes. “Isa and I will ruin our marriage without blaming you.”

“Hey!” Everyone left in the room snapped varying versions of the same sharp look at him, but Isa was the one to put in the words. “Don’t jinx us before we’re even married.”

“Ha, and you were going to object to me being superstitious. Relax. I’d say both of the relationships in this room are pretty safe.”


	8. Nostalgia (Vanven)

“Take off your shirt,” Vanitas demanded without preamble, shutting the office door behind him.

Ventus barely glanced up from his computer screen, and his fingers kept typing, finishing the e-mail to his students that the syllabus was being adjusted. “You know, usually you at least say hello.”

“Shut up and do it,” the raven haired man snapped, tossing a plastic grocery bag mostly filled with a blue lump onto the desk. “You took one of my shirts this morning. By the time I finished shaving and went to get dressed myself it was too late for me to catch you.”

Ventus didn’t look like a man who had risked getting caught in an affair because he couldn’t tell red and blue apart. He beamed the same enthusiastic and vaguely clueless smile he always did, the one that disarmed everyone, including Vanitas himself, and made them underestimate him. He probably would have gotten away with showing up at home in a shirt that wasn’t part of his wardrobe just on the merits of that smile alone. Vanitas didn’t know where Ventus had told Xion he was last night and he didn’t care. “Good catch. Shouldn’t I change at the end of the day though? Wouldn’t want to tip off the whole philosophy department.”

“I’ll spill something on my shirt for you.”

“Don’t you dare!” Ventus shrunk back in his chair. “I like this shirt. It’s one of my favorites. It makes your features pop.”

“Bullshit. You didn’t even realize it was mine.”

“It makes my features pop too.” The smile intensified.

“Did you take it on purpose?” It seemed like it was all a game to Ventus. It was to Vanitas too, but sometimes he felt like Ventus was playing hopscotch while he was playing chess.

“No,” Ventus scoffed and Vanitas wasn’t sure he believed him. “I can’t believe you talked me into doing that again,” the blonde muttered, smile wilting without warning as he changed the subject and abdicated his own responsibility.

“It was one last time for nostalgia’s sake,” Vanitas dismissed the topic airily. 

“Just promise you won’t break up this wedding too.” Ventus continued to darken.

“I didn’t break up the last one.” That was the truth in Vanitas’s eyes. He hadn’t planted any doubts in Xion that hadn’t been there in the first place, and if their relationship had been that strong he wouldn’t have been able to fan them either. He hadn’t even introduced Naminé and Xion, so clearly he hadn’t been the mastermind of every factor that has led to Xion running off. Ventus still stared him down like he’d planned every catastrophe in the universe. “So, Xion told you I had a little talk with her before the ceremony. How long after?”

“After I proposed this time. Do you think I would have…that we would have happened if I knew you’d chased off Xion?” Ventus stayed the course on the accusatory track.

“I don’t see how it would have mattered. If anything, it was romantic.” Vanitas refused to be the villain Ventus needed, though he didn’t mind being cast as one in general. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry. I’m happily married myself this time.”

“Happily?” That scoff actually cut. Ventus had to be more careful.

“It’s a rough patch,” Vanitas defended, crossing his arms.

Ventus instantaneously made Vanitas wish for the blame game or the superior looks to return when his face and voice both softened to the gentle demeanor befitting breaking bad news to a volatile personality. “Xion told me Kairi’s planning on serving you divorce papers.”

“Ah, well if the rumor mill declares it, it must be so,” Vanitas spat venom, reaching for the door.

“For what it’s worth, I hope you two work it out.” Ventus wielded pity like a weapon, knowingly or not. 

The words made Vanitas pause, but it wasn’t in order to deliver a thank you. “One of us should have a healthy relationship. Have you talked to her about getting the tattoo removed?” Ventus had to know it would be used against him one day when he’d told Vanitas how much the starfish Xion had gotten when she was with Naminé bothered him.

“She loves that tattoo.” Not said was that Naminé had a matching one. Never mentioned was that the only reason Xion had been single again at the same time Ventus had found himself in the same position was that Naminé had been the one to leave her. The first time Ventus had suggested he and Xion just pick up where they left off rather than starting over she’d refused. She’d said they were both rebounding back into each other. He’d re-proposed every date. He’d wore her down. What a love story. 

“I’m sure that’s all there is to it.” When Vanitas smiled he looked like the devil himself. 

“Don’t do that,” Ventus admonished, more wearily disappointed than inclined to snap. 

"I was just asking a question. I say let people have their nostalgic artifacts.“

"As long as it works out for you.” Ventus turned his attention back to his computer. He had forgotten to send the e-mail after all.

“It always works out for me.”


	9. Evil (Kairi and Xion)

“Are you even human?" Xion gaped at Kairi, all wounded animal eyes.

Kairi pouted at her reflection in the mirror while fixing her hair. "What? I said it was romantic. I believe my exact words were that it was ‘so romantic’ that you and Ventus just got swept away. That you know, for a fact, that it only didn’t work out last time because it wasn’t the right time. Who cares if you’ve only been back together for a short time. You’ve been in love for years!”

Xion could only be grateful she hadn’t told Kairi about Naminé. The redhead was fairly transparent, but it didn’t stop the catty words disguised as support less likely to burrow under skin. 

“I’m sure none of the problems from before will come back. You’re both different people now, and you’ve both learned and matured. And you’ve talked things over, right?” Kairi didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s all in the past….and I’m sure Ventus feels that way too and doesn’t resent you one bit.” Satisfied with her hair, she started working on makeup.

“You’re evil. Actually evil,” Xion marveled, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. 

“Thank you.” Kairi flashed a smile in the mirror during a brief pause between eyes, applying eyeliner. “If you think it’s playing more fair, honey, I could play it a bit more straight and point out that my whole marriage is built on the fact that, at least initially, Vanitas wanted to make someone jealous and took a joke too far, and it seems to me your man’s doing the same with you, but I think that lacks nuance enough to make it fun.”


	10. Define Fine (Aqua and Xemnas)

“We’re not ‘fine,’” Aqua mimicked Terra’s reluctant, sadness tinged, bitter confession from that morning, before snapping back to a half-frantic huff that was all her own. “Out of nowhere. Six in the morning. Sun’s not even up. I’m getting dressed in the master bath because I don’t want to turn on the bedroom light because I think he’s sleeping. I want to crawl back into bed-with him-but I’m getting ready, to be the responsible adult in the family like I always am, and he lays that on me before I even have breakfast.” She glared at a spot of empty air as she fell silent and shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. 

Xemnas held up a half filled wine glass in front of her until she took it. There was a fair chance it would be more comforting than him. He wasn’t a bad listener, and maybe that was all his stepsister wanted, and he could parse the problem, if she’d let him, but he favored a more clinical, logical (and biased when it came to his sister’s husband whom he’d never liked) standpoint, as Aqua did herself, but he lacked the nurturing nature that balanced his sister out and often was not able to muster anything beyond the starkest assessment. “So what did you say?”

“I panicked. I just told him he was wrong and left the room,” Aqua shrugged her shoulders in a rather robotic up and down and frowned at the glass in her hands like she wasn’t sure how it had gotten there.

Xemnas couldn’t help it. He let out a full-bodied laugh. That was Aqua. He could just imagine the tone she’d said it in too, like she was correcting one of her students. “I would have loved to have seen his face.”

“I’m glad I was able to amuse you,” the dry response came, though the corner of Aqua’s mouth twitched like the humor of the situation wasn’t entirely lost on her.

“What happened then?” Xemnas urged. He watched his sister’s hand, or, more accurately, the wine she hadn’t bothered to take even a polite initial sip of, more closely than he watched her face.

“Nothing. He didn’t follow me. I ducked my head back into the bedroom before I left for work and he had fallen back asleep. He was home when I came home and…nothing. He’s probably waiting for me to bring it up.” The question of whether she should bring it up and have the conversation out, or walk on eggshells for awhile hoping Terra didn’t dive back into the topic at an awkward time was implied, though she didn’t bother to actually voice it. The answer was more questions she was positive, and ones she didn’t know the answer to. How do you feel about it? Do you think he’s right? It might be just a phase (and that was the answer she wanted “It’s just a phase. All marriages go through dark and light patches” like Daddy would say), but do you think it would pass more quickly if you talk it through or if you don’t pick at it?

“God, don’t do that,” Xemnas surprised her, draining half his own glass of wine after. “Not until after Saturday,” he amended. “Did you forget Annie’s little dinner party? It’s going to be bad enough without the possibility of you and Terra sniping at each other under your breaths all night.” Or Terra refusing to show up and Aqua clinging to his side all night so he could fend off questions for her, but Xemnas wasn’t unkind enough to voice that worry. 

“Ansem hates it when you call him Annie.” Aqua finally took a sip of her wine, and Xemnas couldn’t help but be reassured.

“I have to have some fun left in my life.”

“You have me. I’m fun." 

Xemnas stayed pointedly silent until Aqua shoved his shoulder. He’d coaxed a smile out of her. That had to be mission accomplished of the day.


	11. Unmarry His Ass(Isa/Roxas, Roxas/Axel)




	12. Attraction (Roxas and Xion)




	13. Wine(Isa/Roxas)




	14. After Hours(Axel/Roxas)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lil spicy


	15. Small World (Riku and Sora)

“You’re looking through my phone?” Sora was framed in the doorway, striking even in sweatpants with bunched legs that said they were too long, though they tightened over his hips and a faded shirt with a cartoon dragon on it, hair held back by a blue headband that Riku was fairly, though not entirely, certain had been left at the house by a guest a few weeks ago, large green bowl cradled in his arms. Sora had frozen mid-stir, forgetting what he’d been coming in from the kitchen to ask Riku when he’d caught his husband intently scrolling through something on his phone, Riku’s own Otter encased cell lying forgotten on the coffee table.

Riku didn’t look guilty in the slightest when he glanced up and made no move to set the item in question down or offer it to its owner. “You’re the one who left it laying around. It kept buzzing, so I got curious. Your passcode is the same as your pin. Every pin you’ve ever set.” Riku left it unvoiced that Sora should never again tease him for the time he’d made his email password “E-mailpassword!” when he was almost as bad. “I was going to make sure it wasn’t an emergency, and maybe answer whoever it was that you were cooking and would call or text them back later. ”

“I guess that makes sense,” Sora hemmed, dismayed suspicion that had scrunched his face slowly smoothing out. He had nothing to hide, and few thoughts or conversations that he didn’t relate to Riku, period. If anything, Riku sometimes had to cut his sharing off, and remind him that, while he loved to hear about Sora’s day, he wasn’t required to recount every second they were apart. He didn’t even care about privacy. The only reason to be uncomfortable about Riku looking at his phone was the implication that Riku didn’t trust him. If Riku was just concerned that he was missing an important phone call, and then maybe got distracted, then that seemed alright. “Who was it?”

“Kairi.” Riku frowned over the name and Sora felt a prickle of concern again. “She hung up when she heard my voice. I wonder if she recognized it,” he mumbled the last half to himself.

“You know Kairi?” Surprise and curiosity mixed. “You didn’t tell me before that you know Kairi!” Sora could only see the fun of the coincidence. It was a shame he hadn’t known before though; he’d have used the leverage of Riku and Kairi being friendly to help convince her to consider staying with them during her separation from her husband instead of with her brother.

“I wasn’t sure myself until now,” Riku set the phone down and rubbed his forehead. Reasonably, he should have known. Sora had mentioned the name of the student in his yoga class he was seeing more than once, mentioned her crumbling marriage too, and Kairi wasn’t the most common name. He’d just been in denial until he saw it laid out. He let out a puff of breath much like a sigh and raked the same hand through his hair. “She’s a patient of mine. She and her husband. I recognized her in her contact picture.

"Oh! Awesome! I should have thought to ask who they were seeing when she told me Vanitas convinced her to give counseling a shot–though I also think I had something to do with that. She was ready to serve him divorce papers before I talked her out of it,” Sora babbled happily. He seemed to remember suddenly that he was holding a bowl and held the spoon out to Riku. “Taste the marinade before I put the fish in it? It’s honey orange garlic ginger.”

Riku shook his head, and not just because the sauce sounded like at least one flavor too many, especially concentrated and raw. “You can’t date my patients.”

“No, _you_ can’t date your patients,” Sora stressed, mildly put out about Riku’s refusal to play taste tester. “It’s not an ethics violation for me, or even a moral one. We were pretty upfront with each other, and I really want Kairi to work through things with Vanitas, no matter what it might mean for me and her.”

“My patients are married, sweetheart,” Riku pointed out like he wasn’t even listening , fond but exasperated to the point of exhaustion.

“So are you and I. Don’t you think I take our marriage vows seriously?”

Riku patted the couch cushion next to him. “I know you do. I hope you know I do too. I wasn’t finished. The great majority don’t have marriages like ours.”

Sora glanced into his bowl, mourning his sauce for a moment, before setting it on the coffee table and sitting beside his husband. “They’re not happy, and they’re not communicating. That’s why they come to you.”

“They’re not any degree of open…”

“…Or honest.”

“You know what type of open I’m talking about. Generally, I deal with couples whose marriages are very _different_ from ours…with people in them who are very different from us too. And even those that aren’t, need to be concentrating on the relationship _between_ spouses.”

“I know that, but Kairi…” Sora started.

Riku held up a hand to halt him. “I’d prefer to assess Kairi for myself in sessions.” He preferred to leave it in session too, though he couldn’t help mentally updating the file in his head. There was no way he’d hurt Sora by mentioning it, but he was pretty sure he knew exactly why Kairi had latched onto him if Vanitas wasn’t showing her the attention and affection she needed. They looked strikingly similar. And, oh God, he was just remembering Sora told him his new girlfriend also had a girlfriend of her own. That was more knowledge he didn’t want to have when it only complicated issues if he couldn’t bring it up in session, considering the source of the knowledge and how he should recuse himself, even when it very much needed to be a topic of discussion.

Sora made a disgruntled noise in his throat, but only fumed for a second before shifting to a more thoughtful pout. “Have I come up at all? Not by name, I know, or you wouldn’t have been surprised I knew her, but, in general?”

“An affair?” Riku tilted his head so his glasses slid a fraction down his nose and looked at his husband over the frames. It was a low trick. He knew what effect that gesture had on Sora.

“Don’t make it sound tawdry.”

“It is for her,” Riku pressed gently.

“I know her better,” Sora still felt inclined to argue.

“You’re right,” Riku backed off suspiciously easily. “You absolutely do. But I know _you_ best of all, and I know you wouldn’t want to be involved with someone who was being dishonest…which I can tell you she is…with her husband and with you.”

Riku was right. He was always right. Sora had given Kairi an ultimatum, but he never reached the stage where he followed through with his vow that he wouldn’t keep seeing her if she did not tell her husband about him. Kairi and Vanitas had separated and Sora had fooled himself into thinking it wasn’t as important then. He’d renewed his insistence when reconciliation had been put on the table, but then he’d agreed it might not be the first thing to bring up when she saw Vanitas.

“I’ll talk to her,” Sora offered.

“I’m going to ask you to break it off.”

Riku seemed to be holding his breath, and noticing it knocked the breath out of Sora’s chest too. Was he not sure if Sora would agree? How could he ever doubt?

“Absolutely!” If Riku was no longer comfortable there was no question. “Do you want me to do it now?”

Riku exhaled a long, slow stream and the relief in his face as he combed a hand through his hair again almost broke Sora’s heart all over. “No, no need. You want help with dinner?”

“Nah, I got it.” Sora started to stand and reach for his bowl. “Do you want to invite Naminé over? It’s been a long week. I don’t mind calling in the backup to help you relax. We can double-team it.”

Riku shook his head. “You’re all I need.”

“That’s very sweet, but, oh love of my life, that’s inaccurate. No person can be all things to another, and trying to force one person to be all things at all times for you is a surefire way to sow strife and dissatisfaction.”

“Now, you sound like the therapist.”

“Would you like me to be? Your glasses, a tie, a notepad and nothing else while I make you lie down on the couch and tell me all your fantasies?”

“Fish first.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Every Rose](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27597374) by [cameronclaire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cameronclaire/pseuds/cameronclaire)




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